


Gus, get your wallet

by mundanememory



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Rookie Romance, patrik and nikolaj play matchmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-03 19:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21184538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mundanememory/pseuds/mundanememory
Summary: They get lunch near the hotel and talk about everything: camp and home and what the words on the menu mean. Ville feels a shiver all the way down his arms when David laughs or leans across the table to say something.Ville’s got himself into the dangerous business of wanting things that he probably has no chance of getting.If you fucking want it, Coach said at practice,then work for it.Ville sinks his teeth into his sandwich. He’s hungry for more.





	Gus, get your wallet

**Author's Note:**

> im officially banning myself from joking about pairings because i Will end up writing them
> 
> you may know that there is very little i love more than rookies and european nhlers. this season the winnipeg jets said eat your heart out baby! and yes im aware that they have not interacted but its about being YOUNG and FIERCE and WANTING something SO BAD!
> 
> okay i love them and i love rookie narratives and i love the weird wild strangeness of the jets lineup this year so here you go (ps idk if they actually did a rookie party or anything, dont think about the timeline too much)

Ville sees him for the first time at development camp. He’s a wall of a man among the throngs of underdeveloped teenaged prospects. “Oi,” Ville says to Kristian in muttered Finnish, “who invited the vet to dev camp?”

“Dude,” Kristian says. “That’s Gus, David Gustafsson. He was drafted last year. Second rounder.”

“No fucking way.”

-

David’s big and strong on the ice and nice, if intimidating, off of it. The Finns gang up on him a little, giving him a hard time about being Swedish, but he chirps them right back. They’re fast friends, even if they can’t understand each other sometimes. Ville’s having a hard enough time learning English with a Canadian accent, let alone a Swedish one.

“We should grab lunch,” Kristian says after a hard day at camp. They’re exhausted and gross and Ville can’t figure out the opinions of the coaches who whisper back and forth behind their clipboards.

Lunch, at least, he can do. He can eat and he can talk hockey with the guys. “I’m in,” he says. He turns to look at David beside him. Kristian’s nodding over a few of the other Finns, calling them over to their corner. “Coming?” he asks.

“Yeah, sure,” David says, an easy smile on his face. He stretches his arms out over his head. He’s still massive for a nineteen year old and Ville can’t help but stare. David’s jaw and back are both chiseled. He’s built out into his frame. His teeth are set in perfect rows, white and straight.

“Centers’ turn to pay,” Kristian calls. He’s got an arm wrapped tight around the protesting Santeri’s shoulders.

“Gus, get your wallet,” Ville says with a nudge. David grumbles but smiles as he dashes off to collect his stuff before they leave.

-

“What’s Laine like?” Ville can’t help but ask Blake at training camp. He’s itching to meet him, one of the biggest celebrities in all of Finland.

“He’s a good kid,” Blake says. “A weird kid, but a good kid. I’m sure he’ll be really glad to meet you.” Ville nods excitedly and his fingers shake when Blake hands over his phone for Ville to enter his number to be passed on Patrik.

During the drills, Ville ends up rotated around with David, who’s taking a few turns with Nikolaj and Blake. David’s clearly curious about the same thing (and who wouldn’t be, with all those quotes flying out of Finnish magazines) and he asks Nikolaj, “So what’s Laine like? Is he gonna sign?”

Nikolaj rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, a smile making his way onto his face. “He fuckin’ better sign. Gotta stop being such a little drama queen and get his ass home.”

After practice, in the stall next to Ville, David turns to Bryan and says, “Are Laine and Ehlers, ah, not friends? He called him… ‘drama queen’ today?” David’s voice is unsure, like he’s not really familiar with the term. Ville’s not either, honestly. He turns into the conversation too, curious as to what it all means. He’s still figuring out the relationships between all the guys.

But Bryan just _laughs_, hands on his knees like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “No, no,” he says eventually. “They’re best friends. Hey Fly!” he calls over the Nikolaj, who looks over his shoulder at them. “How do you feel about Patty?”

Nikolaj grins, looking vaguely confused but amused by the question nonetheless. “I hate the guy,” he says with a deadpan voice.

“Patty always gives you a _hard_ time,” Adam cuts in innocently.

Nikolaj pelts him with a tape ball.

Ville and David look at each other and shrug. When they’re on their way back to the hotel all the prospects are staying in, David says, “So what’s up with that? Did that make any sense to you?

“Not at all.” Ville shakes his head. “They all talk too fast.”

“Bet you Ehlers doesn’t actually like him,” David says.

“Yeah, I’ll take that, I guess,” Ville says, but mostly because David has a big hand extended and Ville wants to shake, to feel his skin against his own.

-

“If you fucking want it,” Coach is screaming as they skate the length of the ice, “then work for it! Let’s fucking see it! I wanna see your fucking fangs on this drill!”

Training camp is brutal. It’s a heavy grind against players twice as tall and twice as wide as Ville. They’re monsters and they’re hungry for blood. Ville digs his skates in and leaves his heart out on the ice, desperate for his shot.

“I like the hunger, kid,” Blake tells him with a slap on the back. From his stall, David nods at him.

Ville has a chipped front tooth. He’s still small in stature and acne covers his face. His shoulders aren’t nearly as broad as the other guys here. Even David could knock him over without much effort.

Ville has to dig his skates in a little harder than most of the guys. He’s got to have a good base, a solid foundation and drive. If he wants to make the team, he needs to have more of that drive than anyone; he needs to be hungrier than anyone.

“Hungry?” David asks him after camp that day.

“Starving,” Ville says.

They get lunch near the hotel and talk about everything: camp and home and what the words on the menu mean. Ville feels a shiver all the way down his arms when David laughs or leans across the table to say something.

Ville’s got himself into the dangerous business of wanting things that he probably has no chance of getting.

_If you fucking want it,_ Coach said at practice, _then work for it_.

Ville sinks his teeth into his sandwich. He’s hungry for more.

-

Patrik signs right before the season begins and a text comes in to Ville the same day, inviting him over to dinner. Ville panics and has no idea what to wear, and ends up overdressed in a polo. Patrik laughs as he invites him into the apartment, clapping him on the shoulder and telling him in Finnish that he didn’t need to dress up.

Ville starts to respond in Finnish but cuts himself off as they walk into the kitchen and he sees Nikolaj sitting in sweats and an oversized tee on the counter, looking down at his phone. “Oh. Hi Nik,” he says, surprised. Joona is also there, sitting at the table.

They swap into English and talk about camp as Nikolaj and Patrik bustle around the kitchen, finishing up the traditional Finnish meal they’re making. They share the space with ease, moving around one another and passing each other tools. 

As they’re setting the table to eat, Nikolaj’s eyes light up. “Oh, shit!” he says. “I totally forgot. I got you…” he trails off as he digs through his pocket. Ville watches as he pulls out some candy bar he doesn’t recognize with words he can’t understand written across the front.

Patrik’s face splits into a grin. “I knew I loved you for a reason,” he says as he accepts the mysterious candy, before leaning down and perfunctorily pecking Nikolaj on the mouth.

Ville blinks. Joona seems unfazed and the moment passes; then they’re eating dinner, chatting about Finnish things and getting to know one another. Ville isn’t sure if things make more or less sense, but he does pull up his text chain with David on his way home.

_gus_

_get your wallet_

_you owe me some money_

_ehlers definitely likes laine_

-

David protests that Nikolaj and Patrik dating isn’t really in the spirit of the bet, but he hands Ville a five anyway. Ville grins as his pockets it.

-

Ville and David both make the team. They sit, starry-eyed, as Coach explains all the exceptions and contingency plans for their spots. There’s a pretty good chance they won’t spend all year in the big leagues, not in their first year in North America, but they have a shot. Sometimes, all you need is one shot.

Ville’s shaking as he leaves the meeting. He turns to David and David turns to him. David grabs his arm. “I think I might pass out,” he says.

“Yeah,” Ville breathes, unable to say anything else.

“Sink your teeth in, Ville,” David says, squeezing Ville’s wrist. “C’mon. Let’s fucking tear their throats out.”

Ville nods, eyes glimmering. He grins up at David, an unabashed toothy smile. One of Ville’s front teeth is chipped. David’s teeth are set straight in his mouth, a perfect white row.

When Patrik corners them later, he swings one arm around each of them and says, “Hey kids. Since I’m finally not the youngest guy on the team, how about I take you two out for dinner?”

Ville and David look at each other and shrug. Why not?

Ville and David Uber over to meet Patrik and Nikolaj at a high-class place in Winnipeg with a French name. He’s reserved a back room. The people know Patrik and Nikolaj by name and escort the four of them immediately to the back. Ville and David stare at each other. So _this _is how a couple with a total yearly income of over thirteen million gets treated.

The meal is lavish and delicious, steaks and a bottle of white wine. Patrik pokes and prods at them, asking them all sorts of questions about their lives and growing up. “I’m sorry about him,” Nikolaj says with an eye roll when Patrik heads to the bathroom. “He’s very excited about new European rookies.”

After dinner, Patrik drives them back to the hotel in his sleek little car. Ville and David are squished together in the back, no personal space to be found. They hit a pothole and Ville and David rattle around in the back. Ville lurches to the side right into David’s arms.

“Whoa,” David laughs. “Don’t go breaking an arm now. You’ve got a d-core to save.”

Ville laughs nervously and his face burns red. David’s hand grips his upper arm. His hands are big, even squeezing around Ville’s bicep. Ville realizes he has a hand braced low on David’s stomach and he scramble to right himself, brushing his fingers self-consciously through his hair. When he looks up, he sees Patrik peering back curiously at them in the rearview mirror.

The moment passes quickly but Ville knows that Patrik didn’t miss it. He’s worried he’s about to get chirped, because he’s learned by now that nothing’s off limits for Patrik, but instead he just asks Nikolaj something about the team and the conversation starts over again.

Blake’s right. He’s a weird dude.

Patrik drops them off with a squinty smile and a wave. “Goodnight!” he and Nikolaj call out the window as they drive away. David and Ville wave then amble into the lobby; it’s a beautiful night, clear and cool. The woman at the desk says, “Good evening, gentlemen.”

David presses the button of the elevator and says, “Wow, _gentlemen_.” When the elevator dings and the doors open, he gestures for Ville to go in first. “After you, Mr. Heinola,” he says in what Ville thinks is meant to be a posh British accent.

He hiccups out a laugh. “Why thank you, Mr. Gustafsson,” he replies, garbling his own attempt at the accent. But David laughs anyway as he crowds up near Ville in the elevator. They lean against the wall and look up at the mirrored ceiling.

“I am so full I might explode,” David says.

“I haven’t been so full in years,” Ville agrees.

“I also should not have drank a second glass of wine. Coach might kill me tomorrow.”

Ville pouts. “If only it had been red, I would’ve too.” He scrunches up his nose. He can’t complain, but he doesn’t like white wine.

“You’re the baby of the family,” David informs him sternly. “You don’t get to choose what type of wine we get. Besides, white’s way better than red.”

Ville shoves him as they walk down the hall. Their rooms are right across from one another and when they make it there, they lean with their backs against their doors and their feet blocking the hall.

“I’m gonna get sat, at least for a little while,” David says matter-of-factly. He shrugs.

Ville knows he’s gonna play. Coach doesn’t really have a choice, though. “You’ll get in,” he reassures.

He never thought things would go this way, that he’d be comfortably on an NHL roster at eighteen, reassuring a forward a year older than him that he, too, would get a chance soon. A forward who he has a massive crush on, too. And a _Swede!_ Ville from a year ago would pass out.

“If I have to sit in the press box, I’m happy that at least I get to watch you,” David says with a shrug.

Ville chokes on his own spit and laughs breathily. He doesn’t know what to say so he just shakes his head and says, “Goodnight, Gus.”

David opens his door. “Goodnight.”

-

The next day at practice, Patrik is looking smug. It’s kind of his resting face but even more today. Ville has learned that Patrik and Nikolaj spend a lot of time at the rink huddled together, heads bent in conspiratorially, either holding hands while they whisper or otherwise touching, but today it’s a whole new level of hushed discussion. Patrik’s gesturing with his hands a lot, and Nikolaj is grinning evilly right back.

“Uh-oh,” Josh says to Ville. “Looks like the dream team’s plotting something again.”

“Not this shit again,” Adam says beside him with a headshake. “They’re gonna strain something if they think too hard. Not enough practice, y’know.”

Ville giggles. David wanders over too, sweaty in just his under armor, stretching out his shoulders. “What’re they talking about?” he asks, cocking his head in the direction of Patrik and Nikolaj.

“Probably something that’s going to end with one of them in the hospital,” Josh says. Ville and David look at each with their eyebrows raised, amused smiles on their faces. 

“Weird dudes,” David says. “I like ‘em.” He scrubs a hand through his hair and strips his under armor off right there, his toned skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. Ville’s eyes widen and he looks down at the floor. “Good workout today, boys,” David says before wandering back to his stall.

“I’ll go change too,” Ville stutters, clearing his throat hard and pointing back at his own stall.

“I can’t believe we have to do this _again_,” he hears Adam mutter to Josh as he walks away.

Ville stares at the floor as he changes, not paying attention to the guys bustling around him. When he’s ready to go, he checks his pockets to make sure he’s got everything and finds something missing.

“Gus?” he says, looking over to David’s stall. He’s still shirtless, _somehow_, hair wet from the shower. “I can’t find my key. For the hotel.” Ville feels like he’s in a bad porno, David standing there looking hunky and Ville vulnerable and needing help.

“Weird.” David frowns and walks over barefoot, his sweats dragging along the ground. He bends down and looks under the stalls while Ville digs through his bag.

“What’s up?” Ville looks up to see Nikolaj peering at them.

“Can’t find my key for the hotel,” Ville replies.

Nikolaj scrunches up his nose. “Weird.” Then he snaps his fingers as if an idea has struck him. “Hey, what about this. Patrik’s in the showers and I need to ask the trainers a few questions. You two stay in here and find the key, and then we’ll drive you back to the hotel.”

Ville and David look at each other and shrug. Better than paying for an Uber.

They dig around the lockers looking for the keycard for ten minutes before David finds it under a mat. “Ville! Got it!”

“You’re the best!” Ville says, accepting the card from him. David pats him on the shoulder. At some point during the search David pulled a shirt on, and the dri-fit clings to his chest. Ville coughs.

They sit in neighboring stalls for a minute before Nikolaj and Patrik walk back in and wave them out of the locker room. Walking out to the lot, Ville walks behind Patrik and David behind Nikolaj. Patrik and Nikolaj are holding hands and giggling about something. Covertly, Ville looks down at his and David’s hands swinging side by side.

He doesn’t reach out and grab it, but it would be so easy.

When they’re in Patrik’s little car again, snug in the backseat, David accidentally puts his hand on Ville’s where it’s resting between their legs on the seat while putting on his seatbelt. “Oh,” he says, not removing it right away, “sorry.” David moves his hands off Ville’s knuckles. When he isn’t watching, Ville curls his hand into a fist and rubs his thumb along the knuckles where David’s hand was.

-

Ville gets sat after the season-starting roadie. Coach explains that he needs the rest and needs to see the game from above. Ville nods and reminds himself that improvement doesn’t happen just during the game. He can learn from the box and impress the coaches during practices.

He sits with David for two games, against Chicago and Pittsburgh. Mark tells them the best popcorn to get during the game and they share a bag. They talk through the plays as they happen, watching the systems unfold on the ice. Ville commits it all to memory.

“Laser focus there, Ville, eh?” David chirps, because Ville is staring at the ice even though it’s an intermission. Ville scrunches his nose and shoves David’s arm.

David snatches Ville’s beanie right off his head and runs off with it as Ville sputters and chases after him. They run around the suite for a bit, dodging press members and workers on break. David holds the beanie up out of Ville’s reach. His arms are long and his button-down stretches over his chest. Ville feels out of breath.

Eventually David gives up and presses the beanie back into Ville’s hands. Ville feels a spark when their hands brush, but before his hair can fly away from the static electricity he tugs the beanie back down over his ears. “Bully,” he grumbles.

David slaps him on the back. “You love it. Now, let’s get some more popcorn and we can go back to taking notes.” Ville feels dizzy when he follows him to the popcorn stall. This boy cannot be good for his health.

After the game, they head down to the locker room to see the guys. Patrik barrels right to them, knocking into Ville when he comes over. Ville stumbles into David’s side, and David instinctively wraps an arm around Ville’s shoulder when it happens to keep him upright.

“C’mon, Ville, dig your skates in,” he teases. “You’re falling all over the place on me.”

Falling _on_ you, falling _for_ you. It’s all kind of the same for Ville. He’s still learning his English prepositions.

Patrik chats to them about something and walks away looking pleased with himself. Smug, even.

David bends in to Ville. “Hey,” he says. “Are all Finns this fucking weird, or just you two?”

Ville scoffs and smacks his arm.

-

“Rookie party’s coming up,” Patrik says. He spits onto the ice. They have a few days off before the outdoor game. Ville doesn’t know what to say so he just nods. On Patrik’s other side, Nikolaj elbows Patrik. Patrik elbows him back. They giggle.

Ville looks at Josh questioningly. Josh shrugs. When Nikolaj and Patrik skate off, he says, “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t think I can afford Patty’s taste,” Ville admits to him. Especially as the outdoor games looms as his potential ninth game, and there’s no guarantee he’ll stick around afterward.

“I think they might be doing it a little differently, don’t worry,” Josh says. “I should tell Gus too. We’ll probably just go out to eat and they’ll have you do some embarrassing stuff or whatever. It won’t be a big deal. Wheels is pretty good about not humiliating anyone or anything.”

Somehow Ville doesn’t feel much better about it when later, David slides into the stall next to him looking nervous and says, “Scheif told me that Nik and Patty are helping plan the rookie party.”

“Are we gonna die?”

“I dunno, but I’ll share a bottle of red wine with you if you cover the drinks.” They both wince with a giggle, remembering the price tag on the bottle Patrik bought.

“I think you two are gonna need more than one bottle,” Blake leans over and says.

Ville puts his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands, and groans. He knows he was right to not feel better by what Josh said. David pats his back.

That afternoon, back at the hotel, Ville’s chilling in his room when the text rolls in: _bored_

_come over_

Ville wishes he could say he was cool about it and didn’t fling himself out of bed and into his shoes, scrambling for the door. He smooths his hair down, making it lie flat on his forehead. It’s cool. He’s super cool.

When he opens the door, David’s already waiting in his own doorway across the hall, looking across at Ville with a smile.

Fuck. It is _so_ not cool.

“Your place or mine?” Ville says, trying to make a stupid joke. David grins.

“Get over here, man,” he says.

They sit on David’s bed and play cards. Ville tosses down a ten of hearts. David counters with the ace of hearts. “I win again!” he says.

“Fuck!” Ville exclaims, flopping back onto the bed. “Are we even playing this right?”

“No idea,” David replies. He crawls down the bed and flops down on his side next to Ville.

They throw playings cards at each other in the quiet of the room, their game abandoned. The hotel rooms are nice, the team paying top dollar for them. But the carpet is scratchy and the patterns on the furniture are unfamiliar. It doesn’t feel homey. Not even with all of David’s gear strewn on the chair, a laptop shut on the desk. Everything still feels like it’s just about to be taken away.

If they get sent to the Moose, they’ll still be in Winnipeg, skating in the same rinks and driving around the same roads. But it won’t be the same, not really.

He could go back to Finland, too. That’s what he had been expecting the whole time, before the floor fell out below the Jets’ defense and a spot opened up for Ville as if the seas had parted. He came expecting to leave. David came hoping to stay.

And now they’re both here, flicking the ten of hearts between them. Ville doesn’t know what he expects anymore, but he knows what he’s hoping for.

“What are you thinking about?” David asks.

“Getting sent down,” Ville admits.

David sits up rail straight on the bed and grabs Ville’s wrist. “No way,” he says. “None of that. Let’s go do something fun. Like a, ah, how do you say, last hooray? Before we die at the rookie party.”

“Last hooray?” Ville asks. He’s never heard of it.

“Like, a, I dunno. I think I heard someone say it on TV once.” David just shrugs and gets up off the bed. Ville sits up and watches him grab his jacket and slip on his shoes.

“Polo Park?” He suggests.

David points at him with a smile. “I like your thinking.”

“Get your wallet,” Ville tells him. “You’re making me come, so you gotta pay.”

David throws Ville’s jacket at him. “Fine. You pay for the Uber, though.”

Polo Park is busy and they even get noticed a couple times, which is still exciting for them. David chirps Ville’s wobbly signature even though Ville’s _only _nervous because he’s leaning over his shoulder; Ville apologizes to the poor lady for it being so messy and she smiles and tells him not to worry about it.

They don’t even get anything, but they talk about what they expect the rookie party to be like as they walk around and it’s nice.

They make faces at each other in the glass windows of one of the shops. David’s teeth are white and straight and his hand brushes Ville’s. Ville’s stomach rushes into his throat.

Back at the hotel, the lady at the front desk calls them _gentlemen_ again. David smirks and raises his eyebrows at Ville when she says it. Ville dissolves into giggles, way too far gone for him.

-

The rookie party starts at a restaurant downtown. Blake assures that that they’ll only be paying for drinks, and when the waiter comes over to ask what they’d like, Ville orders red and David orders white. They look at each other and shake their heads, amused.

“Cheers,” David says lowly when their wine arrives. “To nine games, and hopefully more.”

“Nine games,” Ville whispers as he clinks their glasses together.

Dinner is delicious and the most they have to do is tell a few stupid jokes, do their best imitations of a few guys. When they’re asked to imitate each other, Ville stands on a chair and strokes his imaginary beard, and David just waves his arms as if unbalanced and falls over.

“Hey! That was only one time!” Ville protests from his chair. David cocks an eyebrow at him. Ville huffs. “Fine. Two times.”

David reaches out his hand and Ville takes it as he steps down from the chair. There’s a moment where neither of them do anything, and their hands are connected. Then David’s reaching out for his wine and dropping Ville’s hand and Ville rubs the sweat off on his pants.

After dinner, they’re herded into Patrik’s car and taken to Connor’s house, where they’re greeted by a very large and very friendly dog. The guys let Ville and David acquaint themselves with him while they go off to get things sorted in another room.

“Hey, we’re all gonna hang out in the basement,” Nikolaj says, poking his head around the corner. “You guys can pick out another bottle of wine from the wine closet.” He points over where there’s a small narrow glass-walled closet.

“Uh, alright,” David says with a shrug. They each just had one glass with dinner as they watched their tab go up, but if they’re not paying here, then why not?

Nikolaj smiles and pats them on the back. “Awesome.”

Ville follows David into the wine closet and the door falls shut behind them. It’s a tight space, only big enough for the two of them and the collection of wine inside. Behind Ville is a table with a collection of wine paraphernalia on it, corkscrews and glasses and some other stuff he doesn’t recognize.

David pokes around and picks out a bottle he likes. “What about this one?”

Ville looks at the label. It’s red, and his favorite type, too. “Perfect,” Ville says with a smile. He turns to open the door but it’s stuck. Uh-oh. “Um. Gus?” He jiggles the door. “It’s locked.”

David blinks. “It’s _what?_”

Ville tugs on the door again. It doesn’t budge. “We’re stuck.”

“What a year so far, huh?” He says. He adjusts his grip on the wine bottle, looking down on it. “Well, I mean, as long as we’re in here, we might as well enjoy it.”

Ville flushes at the proposition of _enjoying it_. He certainly has enjoyed being in such close quarters with David. He feels the hair on his arm stand up as David points over his shoulder, leaning into Ville’s body.

“Just need to grab the, ah, how do you even call it, cork, thing,” he says, gesturing to the corkscrew on the table behind Ville.

“Oh, yeah,” Ville says, trying to maneuver in the tiny space to get around David. They try to side-step one another but keep getting in each other’s way, difficult to swap spots in the closet.

“Here, ah,” David says, handing Ville the bottle, “let me—” he puts his hands on Ville’s waist and spins them around, moving Ville with ease. Ville hears a tiny squeak in the back of his own throat. David’s thumbs press on Ville’s hip bones and his fingers are cold on the small of his back. Ville thinks about the injury report: _Heinola, 18 year old defenseman, out indefinitely with a concussion after he passed out while locked in a wine closet with fellow rookie Gustafsson._

David grabs the corkscrew and takes the wine bottle out of Ville’s hands to pop the cork out. “Gimme some of that,” Ville says weakly, taking the bottle back and swallowing a few large gulps.

He hands it to David and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks at David and David stares right back as he brings the bottle to his mouth and takes his own drink from it. His gaze is dark and intense.

“Are we being hazed?” Ville muses, thinking of the locked door and how he’s not totally convinced it’s an accident, just like he’s not sure his ‘lost key’ was a mistake either.

“Maybe,” David says. “Though they’re not very good at it, if we are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought hazing was supposed to suck,” he replies. “But I really like hanging out with you.”

“Oh.” Ville takes the wine back and sips from it. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” David reaches a big arm up and leans against the wall. The way he’s bent over Ville in the tiny space makes him seem bigger than he really is. David seems to consider his words a moment, rolling them over in his mouth and deciding whether he wants to say more. He eventually speaks again: “I think I like hanging out with you more than you like hanging out with me.”

“Not possible,” Ville says before he realizes what he’s saying. He blushes red.

“Really?” David smirks. “Because I’ve been trying to flirt with you since dev camp, so…”

“Gus.” Ville’s jaw drops. “Shut _up_. You haven’t.”

“I have! And you’ve been weird about it.” David raises his eyebrows.

Ville can’t believe this is happening. “Because I’ve been focusing on not dying every time you do something cute.” He pokes David’s chest, saying the words before he thinks about them. Oh boy. He’s really in it now.

His finger is still sitting there on David’s chest, right on his sternum. There’s a silent moment. Ville wants more wine. David very carefully steps into Ville’s space and puts his hands back on Ville’s waist.

“So does that mean you want me to do this…?” He bends down slowly to Ville. 

Ville instinctively rocks up onto his toes and wraps his arms around David’s neck to hold himself steady. “Yes,” he whispers, their faces only inches apart. Ville looks at David’s lips. They’re stained faintly pink from the wine.

David kisses him softly and exploratorarily. His mouth is warm. His beard feels a little weird on Ville’s chin but he likes it. His hands are big on Ville’s waist. David licks into Ville’s mouth. He tastes like the wine, floral and fruity in a way that makes Ville feel lightheaded. Ville loves the slide of their mouths against one another, the feeling of David’s tongue in his mouth.

Ville touches his neck and his back, mapping his skin through his button-down. David’s hands tighten around his waist, and he gasps into Ville’s mouth. Ville goes wild from the sound and scrambles to get him closer, taste more of him. He presses their bodies together, chest to chest and hips to hips. David is half-hard, pressing against his thigh.

He breaks the kiss, letting go of Ville’s waist and putting his hands on his shoulders. “Sorry, I, uh,” he says, his mouth kissed red and his cheeks tinged pink. “I don’t wanna, like, you know, get too excited in Helle’s wine closet.”

Ville nods, knowing he’s right even though every cell in his body is telling him to say fuck it and climb David like a tree. That probably wouldn’t go over well with their new teammates. And it’s a good thing too, because the door opens and Blake is there, waving them out of the closet. “Alright, we’re done being mean. Come on out.”

David takes the wine and tries to subtly smooth down his shirt as they exit. Ville follows him with his face red. He brushes his hair out with his fingers.

Blake takes a long look at the two of them and sighs. “Don’t worry kid,” He tells Ville. “Whatever it is, Nik and Patty have done worse.”

David and Ville look at each other and burst into giggles.

The rest of the night is fun, good bonding with the boys, and Patrik drives them back to the hotel at the end of it. They hold hands in the backseat. Ville can see Patrik’s eyes in the rearview mirror, but he doesn’t say anything.

David and Ville kiss in the elevator. On their floor, they linger outside their doors, whispering to each other.

“We should go back to that restaurant. The one we went to with Nik and Patrik,” Ville says, twisting his fingers with David.

“Yeah?” David smiles. “You want me to blow my entire ELC on getting us that back room again?”

Ville cocks his head. It wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“Yeah, no.” David shakes his head, knowing what Ville’s thinking. “After a few paychecks, ask again.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Ville likes the sound of ‘a few more paychecks’. It sounds like a promise.

-

Ville doesn’t play in the outdoor game. He’s not sure if he should be upset, or glad for the delay of his ninth game. He’s rooming with David in Regina and in the afternoon before the game, David sits criss-cross on Ville’s bed and takes Ville’s hand.

“Hey,” he says. “Pre-game meal?”

Ville shrugs. He’s lost in thought. David rubs his thumb on Ville’s knuckles. “C’mon,” he needles. He leans over and kisses Ville. “I’ll pay.” He kisses Ville again.

Ville smiles against his mouth, wrapping his arms leisurely around his neck. “Okay,” he agrees, kissing the corners of David’s mouth. David kisses a trail down Ville’s neck, especially in the spot under his ear that he likes.

“Gus,” Ville murmurs, kissing him on the mouth again, cupping his face in his hands. “Get your wallet.” If they keep kissing they’ll forget about going to eat at all, and then David won’t be happy during the game.

“In a minute,” David says, getting his fingers into Ville’s hair and kissing him over and over again. “We’ll go in a minute.”

Ville hums into the kiss. Okay. Another minute sounds good to him.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
> i love them soo much
> 
> <3


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